Old Treasury - Poem by immanuel santos
I walked with a white hair grass,
wearing a classic fashioned glass,
and torment with humor aged hats.
He is bulky old brass,
painted and unpaved task,
but his memory is sharp more
than a fellow young craps.
How i wish my life will be like him
as he was. But thank God - being
his good troublesome, he made a
lovely incident letter that last.
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You